


Baby, Don't Go

by moonyloonylupin



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Daredevil (TV) Spoilers, Fluff, GOD I'M SO HAPPY, M/M, Post-Season/Series 03, so soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-04 22:41:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16355630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonyloonylupin/pseuds/moonyloonylupin
Summary: There are times that Foggy really can't believe that it's Matt, standing right in front of him.





	Baby, Don't Go

**Author's Note:**

> Just a soft thing I wanted to write because, holy shit, was I pleased by season 3.

Sometimes, Foggy finds himself staring at Matt. Just staring. Wondering, not for the first time, if this will be the last time he sees him.

He knows what Matt said. That he's gonna stick around. But he's said that before. That he's done lying to them. And Foggy believes him, he does, he just. 

Worries. 

Karen will catch him staring, but she's kind enough not to say anything about it, mostly because they both know that Matt knows he's doing it. But Matt doesn't say anything, either. On occasion, he'll tilt his head toward Foggy and smile, small and soft, before putting the tips of his fingers to paper again while they go over case notes in the backroom of Nelson's Meats. 

So Foggy stares. Disbelieving. 

He even finds himself staring when they're alone in Matt's apartment and Karen's gone home for the night. It's been weeks since the Fisk Takedown 2.0. Tower has been insufferable, but Foggy's dealt with Brett his entire life, so it's no hardship he hasn't gotten through before.

It's a quiet night. It's been quiet since Fisk was put back behind bars and since Poindexter disappeared and since... well, everything. Matt doesn't go out as much; at least, not in the black suit. Sure, he'll take late-night walks around the city, canvassing under the guise of a "disruption in his circadian rhythms." That's what he tells Theo whenever Matt ends up at the "office" at 5am, while Theo's sleepily prepping for the breakfast rush. More often, though, Matt goes back to the church to visit Sister Maggie. 

Foggy doesn't know if he'll ever be able to think of Sister Maggie as Matt's mom. He thinks Matt feels the same, but they don't talk about it much. It's one of those private parts of himself that Foggy's decided he'll let Matt keep, the same way Foggy's entire relationship with Marci - and their subsequent, amicable breakup following the reinstitution of Nelson & Murdock (and, now, Page) - is a blank spot in his life to Matt. Matt lets him keep it to himself. 

Anyway, like he said, it's a quiet night. So his silence is probably all the more noticeable, especially when Matt starts to gather up their empty beer bottles and leftover Thai. 

"You gonna tell me what's going on in there?" Matt asks, placing the empties in a large cardboard box by the refrigerator that serves as his recycle bin with a clatter. 

"Huh?" Foggy says, before his brain catches up with his mouth. "Oh. Nothing, really." 

Matt hums. He pulls plastic containers out of his cabinets, runs his fingers around inside of them, and makes a face. He grabs a few more and tosses them with unerring accuracy into the sink. 

Foggy gets up from the couch and wanders into the kitchenette as Matt flicks on the faucet and starts to wash out caked-on layers of dust from months of disuse out of the Tupperware. He leans up against the counter and watches Matt work, staring. 

"This is real," Foggy says. Matt doesn't pause in his washing, but he does slow down, turning down the water pressure until it's just a trickle. "Isn't it." It's not a question. 

Matt says, "I should hope so," with a small laugh. "It could also be one of those very vivid dreams I used to have while I was... indisposed." 

"You had them, too?" 

Matt does stop, then, turning the water off completely and wiping a hand on the dish towel by his elbow. 

"Yeah. Yeah, I had them. Couldn't remember most of them. A lot of nightmares, a lot of fire. But, every once in a while, I'd have that one good dream. It'd go something like this." Matt turns and rests his hip against the sink. Foggy turns to face him, fingers twitching toward Matt's dry hand just inches away. "Those were the worst ones, though. I always woke up reminded of the things I couldn't let myself have." 

"I get that," Foggy whispers. "The day before you showed up looking like one of those conspiracy theorists with those 'the end is nigh' signs that hang out around Penn - you know the ones, you don't need to see them, you were giving off major crazy vibes - I had one like that. Marci and I cataloged it as 'the buddy dream.'" 

"What was it about?" 

Foggy shrugs and gives in to the impulse to put a hand on Matt's forearm. 

"They were always different, but usually just us. Together. Happy. Whatever that meant in my brain at the time." 

Matt's not wearing his glasses, took them off the second the three of them piled into his living room, so Foggy can see the way they're heavy lidded and focussed somewhere around his shoulder. His brow furrows, not of the "bless me Father, for I have sinned" variety, but in the "I'm having an emotion I can't identify" kind of way. Foggy reaches up with his other hand and smooths it out with his thumb. Puts it on Matt's shoulder. Foggy knows he doesn't imagine the way Matt tilts his head a little closer so his stubble grazes the back of Foggy's hand. 

"You're really not going anywhere, are you?" Foggy asks. It's not like a revelation or anything. It's simply a question he needs to hear the answer to out loud. 

A year ago, before, when everything was balancing on the tightest of threads, the thinnest of ice, Matt would've been bitter about the question, would've been angry that Foggy even had to ask it. And, nine times out of ten, Foggy wouldn't have asked, for fear that Matt would lie. Or worse, not say anything at all. But after everything, Foggy's... not tired, not resigned, but steady. Comfortable. Prepared for whatever Matt will say. Knowing that even if the answer is "no," at least it will be the truth. 

Matt curls a hand around Foggy's wrist and turns his face fully to rest his mouth on Foggy's knuckles. 

"Do you even have to ask?" Matt says. The way his lips move against his skin makes Foggy shiver. He turns his hand and Matt's lips graze his palm before he turns to rest his cheek in the curve of it. 

Before he even realizes that he's saying it, Foggy goes, "No." 

Foggy feels more than sees Matt smile, one of those big, eye-crinkly ones he's been giving more and more lately.

"But it's nice to hear," he adds. 

Matt closes his eyes. 

"We've been through... too much, probably." Foggy makes an agreeing noise but doesn't stop him. Matt doesn't speechify about his feelings often, so Foggy lets it play out how it will. "And I know I pushed you and Karen away when all you were trying to do was help. Maybe I got so caught up in keeping the two of you safe that I didn't stop to think about how all you wanted was for me to be safe, too. I can't imagine how these past few months have gone. But this, right here? It's real, Foggy." 

Foggy only says, "I know," because that's the only thing Matt needs to hear right now. _I know. I believe you. I'm not leaving, either._

When they finally kiss, it isn't Foggy who does it, like he thought it might have to be. It's Matt who deftly wipes his other hand off on a dish towel, who wraps an arm around Foggy's waist, who pulls him closer, who finds Foggy's lips and kisses him so softly that Foggy thinks he might actually spontaneously burst into tears out of sheer feeling. 

And when Matt pulls away, Foggy follows. And this kiss is just as soft and if Foggy starts to cry, the only thing Matt does is let go of Foggy's wrist to wipe the tears away. 

They stand there, trading kisses and smiling into each other's mouths until the sun goes down, the sounds of sirens in the distance for once, miraculously absent.

**Author's Note:**

> I love you Marci Stahl, but I have to ignore your (ridiculously cute) canon relationship with Foggy for my own emotional health.


End file.
